


Cephalothorax Extras

by Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts



Series: Cephalothorax AU [5]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Angst, Character Death, Death from Old Age, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, NSFW, Past Abuse, Recovery, Smut, drider au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9586133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts/pseuds/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts
Summary: Oneshots and Deleted Scenes in no particular order taking place in the Cephalothorax!VerseTags will be added as they apply. Each chapter will have specific warnings in tags.





	1. First Time for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Monsterporn, Emotions  
> Timestamp: Takes place just before The Cracked Egg
> 
> I'm not used to writing smut but I had to try.

Robbie had been laying on his back more and more often since ending up that way by mistake. Sportacus was concerned before he realized his mate was overturning himself on purpose. After wondering about it for a month, he finally asked why.

“It makes my back feel better.” Robbie explained simply, scowling up at the ceiling.

“Your back wouldn’t hurt if you stopped slouching.” Sportacus suggested.

Robbie turned the glare onto his mate. “Don’t lecture me, Sportanerd. I’m not one of your brats.”

“No, of course not.” The Elf chuckled.

Sportacus climbed up onto what was usually his mate’s underside, then scooted himself forward and laid down stomach-to-stomach to plant kisses all over the Drider’s face, happy when he could make the sour look melt away. Robbie chuckled warmly, carding his hands through his Elf’s hair as he caught the other’s mouth with his own. Sportacus reciprocated before pulling away to nuzzle into his mate’s neck. Robbie squirmed a bit as the Elf’s mustache tickled him.

“Do you need help rolling over?” Sportacus asked.

Robbie responded by hooking his pedipalps around the other’s hips. He was surprised by a set of flat teeth pinching the crook of his neck and he jolted with a surprised squawk.

“What was that for?” Robbie asked, a blush spreading over his nose.

“You bit me before. I think we’re even now!” Sportacus chirped happily, sitting back up and bouncing a little simply because he was happy.

“If we were going by fair, I’d be falling asleep.” Robbie pointed out, his blush darkening. “Or bleeding at the very least.”

Sportacus frowned. “I wouldn’t hurt you.” He said seriously.

“I know.” Robbie murmured, then huffed suddenly. “Will you stop _moving?!_ ”

Robbie fidgeted, hiding his face in his hands. Sportacus realized very suddenly exactly where he was sitting and why his motion may have been uncomfortable. He halted himself quickly, ears reddening.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine!” Robbie cut him off. “It’s just…”

Robbie took a deep breath. _How to explain?_ Well there was the fact that Driders ran on instinct more than most People so there was the awful alarm in his mind that reminded him he could only mate once so he had better pick a strong girl to make sure any young would be safe. That was an invalid fear in his case, since his partner was a male Elf, but the tension was there anyway. At the same time, Sportacus was an _Elf,_ and much smaller. Robbie didn’t want to break him. Simply put, he was too nervous to try.

While waiting for Robbie to continue speaking, Sportacus had begun to climb off of his mate. He failed to notice the beginnings of an erection peeking out from the genital opening until his leg brushed against it, where abdomen met the softer underside of his cephalothorax. Robbie gasped, having not expected the brief touch. He hooked a leg around Sportacus, preventing him from leaving him.

“I didn’t mean to touch-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Robbie interrupted, but the Elf just continued.

“-should always ask first. It was an accide-”

Robbie huffed and pulled his mate down to kiss him fiercely as he let his cock emerge further from inside his body. He could feel Sportacus growing hard against his stomach. He could tell the Elf was fighting to keep his hips still. The alarm in his brain rang out and he pulled away from the kiss sharply, trying to silence it.

Sportacus searched his Drider’s face and must have realized the problem. “My Robbie, I will _never_ hurt you.”

Sportacus kissed him again and while the alarm didn’t go away fully, it was manageable. Robbie relaxed marginally.

“Can I touch you?” Sportacus asked, once the other had calmed. “You can tell me to stop whenever you need, or say no altogether and I’ll leave to let you handle it if you want.” He amended quickly, making sure Robbie didn’t feel like he had to do anything.

“Okay.” Robbie agreed quietly, arousal winning out against the instinctive caution.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Sportacus kissed him again, deeply and just as gentle before sitting up again and scooting himself back. He had to pick himself up awkwardly to get behind the dark member, noticing it was fully unsheathed now. It was much bigger than his own, though given the size of the rest of Robbie’s body he supposed he should have expected that. It was also a deep purple, which he guessed was due to the fact Drider blood was black. He sat down again and looked to Robbie’s face, double checking that this was all fine, and was rewarded with a small nod.

Sportacus brushed the length lightly with his fingers, smiling when the body under him shivered. Robbie’s shaft was slick, self-lubricated from typically being inside his body when not in use. The Elf smiled at such an immediate response and closed a hand around the shaft, twisting his wrist as he pumped it slowly. After a moment he began using both hands, glad when it brought a low whine from his mate.

A tarsal came around to tug at the Elf’s shirt, another at his pants. He paused in his efforts to remove his clothing, noticing that Robbie was doing the same. Sportacus was fully hard by now, having ignored his own needs so far in favor of his mate’s. Now though, he experimentally grinded against Robbie’s larger cock.

Robbie yelped and bucked, nearly throwing the Elf off of him in the process. Sportacus snickered, mumbling an apology for surprising his mate. Robbie moaned, pedipalps twitching for something to hold onto. He leaned forward so the palps could find his shoulders, pleased when the Drider began rutting roughly against his stomach. Sportacus pumped them together for a moment before Robbie stiffened.

“I… I can’t.” Robbie began with a shudder.

Sportacus backed off instantly, thinking something was wrong before realizing his mate was trying to get up.

“I’m sorry! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” The Elf asked as he helped the Drider right himself.

Almost as soon as Robbie righted himself, Sportacus was shoved onto his back. He was surprised, but not at all bothered when Robbie pressed against him, growling and clicking. The Elf recognized the sound and grinned, repeating it to the best of his ability.

“You won’t hurt me. I’m fine.” Sportacus assured, realizing Robbie was holding back.

Robbie kissed him, moving to his neck. Sportacus felt his fangs, but they didn’t breach his skin and he pulled away soon after, dragging his Elf under him by his legs. Sportacus got the hint, pressing his legs together to give his mate a space to thrust into as he jacked himself off. Sportacus hooked his free arm around his mate’s waist to give himself leverage to move.

It didn’t take Robbie long to stutter to a halt as he came over the Elf’s chest, who followed him over the edge seconds afterward. Sportacus moved and sat up taking Robbie’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead. Robbie picked him up and held him, not minding the mess between him. The Elf could feel him shaking.

“Robbie? Are you okay?”

Robbie nodded against him. “I’m tired.”

Sportacus chuckled. “Well, we should clean up first.”

“You know, biting’s part of Drider courtship.” Robbie slurred, drowsy, and let his Elf go, falling into the nest. 

Most of the mess was on Sportacus anyway. After he was clean, Robbie pulled him into his cage of legs and fell asleep easily, leaving Sportacus awake.

Sportacus smiled at him, and wriggled out of the cluster of legs to sit nearer to Robbie's face. His eyes lingered on the old burn across the Drider’s shoulder, and ran his fingers lightly over it, then turned his attention to the newer scars for the poachers. Despite all that had happened to him, Robbie had survived long enough for Sportacus to meet him, long enough to keep him, and was still here. The Elf couldn’t be happier about these facts and his mate’s mere existence. 

Sportacus leaned over, pressing his forehead to Robbie’s. “You are my heart.” He whispered, then returned to the leg cage to join him in sleep.


	2. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow visits Bessie sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: implied past sexual abuse via artificial insemination, cancer mention  
> Timestamp: Takes place when Sportacus, Ithrotaalfurin, and Glanni go to see the Queen.

Willow didn’t like staying in the gymnasium during the day. Even if it was a bigger area, a closed door was a closed door and it felt too much like her cage. As the males slept, she would often leave to walk around the town under open sky.

She had gone into the woods once to try her hand at hunting, but her claws hadn’t grown back yet and she couldn’t properly bite anything that struggled. She didn’t have much practice to begin with. She had been caught young. She was grateful her son hadn’t been old enough to have his fangs and venom removed when the Fae bought them. Jay would be able to learn.

The Drideress tugged at the hem of the shirt a Humanling in a green hat had given her. She liked that Human. She also liked the female with swirly hair. Bessie was her name, and she was often awake at night.

With nothing better to do, Willow made her way toward Bessie’s house. As expected, the Human woman was outside, barking away into her cell phone. 

“Oh! I have a visitor. I need to let you go. If you still can’t find it check your refrigerator. I leave my keys in the fridge sometimes if I’m doing too many things at once. Goodbye Milford!” Bessie said before flipping the phone closed. “Come in, dear.”

She set the phone down on the lawn table, walking over to open the gate to her yard. The gesture was symbolic, as Willow could easily step over the fence. The Drider did so and settled down across from the plastic chair, which Bessie seated herself in.

Willow pointed to the phone and raised her hands to sign. **That. Your man? Round man?**

Bessie chuckled. “He’s not mine, dear, but yes that was Mayor Meanswell.”

**Silly.**

“I suppose he is. He does his best and everyone likes him.” Bessie replied, running her finger through a curl in her hair.

**You like. You want round man. Round man should be yours. Have egg together.**

“I could never be so forward. We’re both past the point of having children anyway.” The secretary looked down at her lap and picked at her bracelet. “I never could, even if we were younger.”

Willow frowned, unsure of what that meant. **No egg ever?**

Bessie forced a smile, though she clearly looked sad. “I had cancer.” She began, then realized her friend didn’t know what that was and simplified it. “The part of my body that is supposed to let me have babies got very sick. It was cut out so the rest of me wouldn’t get sick too.”

Bessie set her hand low on her stomach. She had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer when she was only twenty-three. The doctors had caught it early, but she’d had to have an oophorectomy to remove both before it spread anywhere else.

Willow mimicked the position, clearly thoughtful before raising her hands again.

**Love son now. Didn’t want egg. Scared. Small.**

Bessie felt her heart shatter at the implication. The feeling worsened when the other woman began to cry, pulling up her baggy shirt to wipe at her eyes. Bessie vacated her chair and gently took Willow’s hands in her own. The Drideress took in a stuttering breath and looked down at her smaller friend.

“You’re a good mother, but I’m sorry you didn’t get a choice in it. I’m here whenever you need me.”

Willow smiled and sniffled before pulling her hands back.

**You alike mother. Round man like you. Talk to man. Okay?**

“Thank you, dear. I’ll talk to Milford tomorrow.” Bessie chuckled despite herself. “Oh! Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink? Water? Tea?” 

Confused, Willow held up two fingers to ask what tea was. Bessie mistook that for her choice and bustled inside to get a kettle started. 


	3. Kello Ei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I will die before you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Death, Old age, grief  
> Timestamp: About forty-five years after the Driders are freed.
> 
> Inspidered in part by this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n10KXUr_tDc

It was night. A time the Driders would usually be awake and Elves would be sleeping. The order had reversed this time. Robbie slept more often now and Sportacus had become prone to nightmares. Nothing specific plagued his dreams, just a sense of loss. His father had told him that was to be expected.

The Elf got up, shifting the blankets over his mate's body so he would stay warm in his absence. Quietly, the Elf climbed up and out of the den, only allowing tears to fall once he was outside. Aside from his breathing all was silent for a while. He allowed himself to cry until his heart was numbed.

He heard a cough from inside the den, but no sounds of waking. He felt a pang of guilt that he was wasting what time he had been given. At the same time, he didn’t want to risk his pain being seen. He wanted Robbie to be happy for every second he lived.

The Elf was glad he had taken so many pictures.

The glow of eyes breached the treeline before a figure made herself known. A towering Drider woman stepped out, and Sportacus smiled at her. She noticed the tear tracks regardless and sighed, moving closer and pulling him into a hug. A fresh wave of sorrow flooded through him, but he was stronger this time. He pulled back after what felt like hours. 

“Don’t you have eggs to keep?” He asked, backing off to give her room to sign.

**Sealed den. They are safe. Is Papa sleeping?**

“Yes.” He answered, craning his neck to look up at her properly since he was only came up to the base of her rib cage. “I needed the air.”

Ella sat down, looking to the hole once more. **Not fair.**

“If I had the magic I could-”

The woman waved her hands to halt the Elf speaking before signing again. **Not what I meant. Just sad… My eggs.**

She stopped herself, but Sportacus understood what she meant. Robbie might never meet their grandchildren. Sportacus, however, would meet every generation unless something killed him. Elves did not die from age. Driders did. He would know each of Ella’s children until they died, and their children after. Ella would die. A sob escaped him before he could swallow it.

He allowed his daughter to pull him close again, ashamed that she had to be the one to comfort him when it should have only ever been his job to do the same for her. Eventually, the stress drove his fatigue over the edge and he fell asleep.

When he woke Ella was gone and he was back underground. A cluster of legs was over him, the sound of labored breathing at his side. Fur and hair had greyed, memories became harder for the Drider to reach, but Robbie had never stopped taking care of his Elf in his own way.

“You shouldn’t go outside today.” Robbie said, alerting Sportacus to the fact he was awake.

“Why?”

Robbie turned to look at him, confusion in his clouded eyes. “It’s raining Sportadoof. You have eyes.”

It was not raining. There was clear morning light filtering into the den. It was going to be a sunny day, possibly all week.

“It’s not raining Robbie.” Sportacus told him, placing a hand on one of the legs above him.

Robbie snorted, looking again and realizing his mistake. His eyes were clearer, but his expression flickered from confusion to a sad acceptance. His legs coiled tighter around Sportacus, weakly shaking from effort and stress.

“Tryggvi?”

“I’m here.”

“Stay with me? Please?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Robin. I love you. I’m here.”

Robbie fell asleep again after that, Sportacus petting what he could reach of his mates fur and muttering encouragement and praise until the breathing stopped. He waited, hoping that maybe it was another false alarm where Robbie would cough and remember how to use his lungs. That had happened several times, after all.

There was no cough. No movement. Soon there would be no warmth.


	4. Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glanni does his best. Trees are dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Implied smut.  
> Timestamp: The day before the trip to go see the Queen when Glanni and Ithro go missing for the whole day.

Ithrotaalfurin was in the community garden with Jives when he felt the spark behind his eyes that signalled one end of a Deal being fulfilled. He paused in his efforts of feeding magic into the soil to look around, taking note of his son’s old airship careening overhead and heading toward the forest. So that's where the Fae had gone.

“Yo, who’s joy-riding in the zepplin?” Jives asked, brushing moist earth off his hands onto the seat of his pants.

“Glanni, I think.”

“Right on.”

Ithrotaalfurin returned his attention to the garden so he could finish quickly and vacate the area. He didn’t have to drop everything to carry out his end of the bargain immediately. It wasn’t as if they had time locked the agreement. Regrettably, both Glanni and the itch in his brain would not allow him to procrastinate for very long. 

“You’re not running from me are you?” Glanni asked, finding the Elf only after a few days had passed.

Ithrotaalfurin let a deep breath escape through his nose, releasing the rope to his balloon. He couldn’t deny the accusation, but he did have an honest excuse he could try to redirect the Fae with.

“The trip starts tomorrow. I was heading up to check supplies. I wasn’t trying to leave town.”

Glanni rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his hip, tapping his heel, and gesturing to the Elf with his free hand. “The Deal’s already fucking with you. You look like shit. Do your part for your own sake, if not mine.”

“Why do you want a chance in the first place? I highly doubt you’re going to change. You poisoned a town.”

“I sold them an antidote. It wouldn’t have killed them anyway, it was just phoenix ash. There are perfectly legal industries that do worse.”

“You imprisoned children.”

“One of them was headed down a dark path in the first place. I scared her straight-Well, not _straight_ -and indirectly introduced her to her wife. We both went to the wedding. You need to stop thinking in monochrome.”

While it was all true, Ithrotaalfurin didn’t think any of it was a good excuse. People had been… They technically hadn’t been hurt, he supposed, but they had gotten very ill. The Mayor of Mayhemtown’s relationship had been ruined. The chief of police had quit his job and moved to Eroticity, allowing the gang to grow and spread. Granted, the gang was incompetent and Glanni kept them chasing their own tails.

“Why do you want a chance? From me of all people? It won’t change anything.”

“I don’t want to change. I want you to understand.”

“I understand you’re a selfish man.” Ithrotaalfurin barked, wincing as a sharp pain sparked behind his eyes.

Waiting out the Deal was not the same as blatantly contradicting it and the magic involved was not to be ignored. Glanni watched the Elf double over, head in his hands. The Fae rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to his other hip and watching the other man struggle with himself before he stepped closer.

“Your stubborn ass is going to get you killed, honey.” Glanni warned, placing a hand at Ithrotaalfurn’s back and rubbing comforting circles there. “Do your part so you can stop making yourself sick. If you still think I’m such an evil bitch after today I’ll leave you alone forever.”

“How long?”

Glanni scowled. “For _ever._ Now come with me. Elves like trees right?”

The Fae took Ithrotaalfurin’s hand in his own and lead him far from the balloon and deep into the forest. Unable to deny any longer, the Elf gave in and let himself be taken.

Glanni brought him to a tree. It appeared very old, with thick, swirling branches that went every which way. There were few leaves, but it was clearly healthy regardless. A small boombox hung from one of the higher branches, softly playing classical music. At the base of the tree was a basket. Glanni opened it and tossed the Elf a pear.

Ithrotaalfurin caught it and eyed it warily.

“I wouldn’t set this shit up to poison you. Eat your stupid fruit.”

The Elf sniffed the pear anyway before biting through the skin of it. As he did that, Glanni continued to talk.

“I like to play. We both know this. It’s in my nature. Fae respect Fae and not much else but… I respect you? I think? It’s not fear. It used to be before I realized you’re harsh but not… I’m not sure I… Fuck it.” He took a breath, folded his wings, and leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms and ankles. “It was a game to me, seeing how much I could piss you off. I wanted to break you out of the damn hero complex so you’d hurt me and then we could be on the same level.”

“That’s not how-” Ithro began, having finished the fruit quickly.

“Shut up.” Glanni stepped away from the tree, letting his wings carry him up to the boombox so he could turn the volume up and flutter back down. “Dance with me?” He asked, offering a hand.

Against his better judgement, the Elf took the invitation. Glanni pulled him close, placing his other hand at Ithrotaalfurin’s waist.

“Why do you get to lead?”

“Because you’re short as hell.” The Fae snarked.

Glanni hopped up onto a branch and pulled the other man with him with the extra leverage his wings gave him. He was surprised that the Elf actually relaxed after a few minutes of stepping from branch to branch, falling into rhythm with the sway of the music and the guidance of his rival.

Nothing was perfect however, and Ithrotaalfurin lost his balance. Unwilling to let him fall, Glanni redirected the other’s weight closer to the trunk of the tree and boxed him in with an arm on either side to keep him from tipping over. Whether it was the heat of the moment, or the gratitude of being saved, the Elf couldn’t be sure as he leaned forward just enough to find Glanni’s mouth with his own.

Glanni responded eagerly, pressing flush against the shorter man, lowering both hands to the Elf’s hips and kneading his thumbs over the crests of his pelvis. Nine _melted_. Met with no resistance, the Fae turned his attention to the Elf’s belt, growling as if he found the strip of leather personally offensive.

Ithrotaalfurin made a strangled, breathless noise as soon as a hand made it halfway down the front of his pants. Glanni paused upon hearing it.

“You don’t have to let me do this.” He voiced, suddenly sounding serious. “I get that I… harass you, but not for this. At least, not only for this. I don’t want just one time and we go our separate ways. I care.”

“I’ve only been with one woman before.” The Elf blurted out, explaining his nerves. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s adorable.” Glanni chuckled, finding the other man’s shaft and using his other hand to take his hat to run his tongue around the shell of a pointed ear.

Ithrotaalfurin jolted and pushed the Fae back. His boot missed where he meant to step, and Glanni fell out of the tree. It wasn’t a long way down, but less fall time meant less time to land on his feet and he wound up crushing a wing under him instead. He bit back a scream.

The Elf jumped down after him, stuttering out nervous apologies and he picked the Fae up and turned him around to assess the damage. The quill that made up the top ridge of the wing and kept it rigid was broken and bleeding. He quickly healed the worst of it but it would take time to straighten out and stop aching. He couldn’t do much more as Fae and Elven magic tended to reject each other if there was too much of both.

“You could have just told me no.” Glanni huffed.

“I didn’t want to. You just surprised me.”

“Cute.” He flapped the injured wing slowly, resigning himself to the fact he wouldn't be using it for a few hours at least, maybe a day. “Well the ground is less adventurous but it’s sturdy, if you want to continue?”

“You’re hurt!” The hero balked. 

Glanni snickered and pulled the Elf onto him, happy to resume from where they had started despite injury. He’d gotten his chance. Ithrotaalfurin cared. They could figure out details of the relationship later, but for now…

“Just fuck me you ridiculous Elf.”


	5. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crushes are difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Embarassment, Crush  
> Timestamp: About three months after the Driders gain freedom.

Fawn had a hard time walking. She could do it, but she was horribly off balance. She only had two legs on her right and three on the left. She got tired easily and wobbled too much. She wouldn’t have minded as much if not for the fact it wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for one of her babies to lose their grip on her fur.

The small one kept falling off. He wasn’t as strong as his sister. He was sturdy though, and never got injured more than maybe a scrape. If anyone was around they would pick the baby up and hand him to her.

It scared her at first, strangers touching her babies, but as the town grew familiar and proved itself to be friendly she tried to stop being defensive.

This time when Bear fell from her side, Moth fell too, giggling. It actually felt like Moth _let go_ but thankfully Fawn was small for a woman and her lack of legs forced her to hold herself a bit low. The Driderlings didn’t have far to fall.

“Oh, hey! Let me help ya with that.” A male called, crossing the path to her. 

It was one of the purple ones, of which there were four. The tall one, the talkative one, the Elf’s mate that kept to himself, and the one who was voiceless like herself. This was the talkative one, Bobby if she remembered them right. He scooped a baby up under each arm and deposited them both on her back, still chattering away in English, proud to have mastered it.

“Your kids are funny, Miss Fawn. Fell right off on purpose. Your walkin’ ain’t that bad. Not that I think it's bad at all. You do good. I’m just sayin’ the kid’s got a sense o’ humor. Have you eaten today? I was headin’ to the…” He paused, snapping his fingers to try to get his brain to give him the right word, but gave up quickly. “Meat place. You wanna come with? I like your spots.”

Robbie had been teaching all of the Driders English so they could communicate with the humans. Some had taken to watching movies and different human accents had cropped up in the ones who could speak. Fawn still had trouble understanding what should have been her own language. Driders in the farm weren’t allowed to talk to each other. She was born there and had never learned. Between language in general, accent, and the fact Bobby could talk a mile a minute, she couldn’t keep up with whatever he was trying to tell her.

Nervous, overwhelmed, and intimidated, she ducked her head and hobbled away. The male stopped talking, watching her go.

“Yeah… Maybe next time…” He said softly to no one as the lady retreated.

Later, Bobby recounted the interaction to his brothers.

“I told her I like her spots.”

Tobby snorted. Robbie rolled his eyes. Flobby threw leaves at both of them.

“Wobbie, how’d you end up with Sportacus? How’d you get him to like you?”

“The idiot fell in my den, stole my food, and refused to leave me alone.”

Bobby shook his head. “Yeah… I don’t think that’s gonna work with her. I don’t know where her den is anyway.”

“That wasn’t advice, I was just answering you.” Robbie amended.

“Feed her?” Tobby suggested.

“I asked if she wanted to go get something to eat and she ran off.” Bobby huffed, leaning forward to put his elbows on the ground and his chin in his hands. “She don’t like me.”

“She doesn’t know you yet.” Robbie pointed out. “She’s probably put off by the staring.”

“I don’t stare.” Bobby defended.

All three of his brothers sent him the same pointed look. 

“I _don’t._ ” He insisted. “I just watch, you know? I want to make sure she’s doin’ okay.”

His brothers snickered at him. Resigning himself to the fact he was getting no help whatsoever from them, he stood and walked away. Flobby followed him.

 **She might just want to be left alone.** The smaller suggested, then left his brother to his own thoughts.

Of course, Flobby and Willow had been avoiding eachother like plague so the smallest brother may have been a bit biased. Still, Bobby would keep the advice in mind.

A couple days later, Bobby found Fawn settled behind the butcher shop. She was sitting, eating messily with her hands as her children sparred a few feet from her. He would have left her alone, but Bear broke away from his sister to crawl right up Bobby’s leg.

Fawn just watched, indifferent.

Bobby picked the boy off of his leg and carried him back to his mother. The woman pulled her meat closer.

“I’m not gonna take your food.” Bobby assured, backing off, stumbling when one of his legs caught a chalkboard sign. 

He turned to try stopping the sign from falling, but really only ended up tangling it in his legs and falling over. He cursed rather loudly to himself as he tried to get up, stepping on the sign which slid under his tarsal and sent him to the ground once more.

“Sorry, I’m tryin’ to get outta your way.” He said quickly, picking himself up and replacing the sign, dropping it twice in the process. “Somebody should move that, it’s in a bad spot.” 

He would have left if he hadn’t noticed the woman laughing at him. Replaying what had just happened in his head he had to admit it _was_ pretty funny. He laughed too.

Fawn gestured to the ground in front of her, a shy ghost of a smile on her face. Bobby took the invitation and sat down. The babies played. Neither adult said a thing. Bobby decided it was nice to be quiet for a while.


	6. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the best you can do is to do nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Aftereffects of trauma.  
> Timestamp: From the time the first Driders arrived to Lazytown and onward.

The first time Flobby tried to talk to Willow, she told him very clearly to go away. Her claws had grown back by this point and while he dodged the attack it still hurt his heart. Willow didn’t like him, he understood that. 

She honestly didn’t blame the male. Nothing was his fault. Everything had been done by handlers and he was just as used as she was. Still, he _was_ the father of children she hadn’t been ready to have. Children she hadn’t been ready to watch die. One child she hadn’t been ready to raise and loved regardless because nothing was her son’s fault either.

Despite what she rationally knew, Flobby still made her extremely uncomfortable. She didn’t want him touching her, or even anywhere near her. It didn't take him a long time for the smaller man to get the hint and leave her alone. Perhaps, if they had never seen each other, she would have been able to interact with him calmly.

Jay made avoiding each other difficult at first. Flobby wanted to know his son. Driders typically weren’t active fathers, usually dead before the eggs were laid. Seeing how much Robbie loved Ella though, it made him curious and he found himself becoming fond of the boy despite how little he got to see him.

Willow knew Flobby wanted to meet Jay. She often caught him watching from a distance, leaving immediately after he realized Willow saw him. As a compromise she allowed him to babysit once when Bessie wanted to show her the beach. Willow did not like the beach and it did not happen again.

Eventually Flobby just accepted the situation and resigned himself to the fact he may not be any substantial part of his son’s life until the boy was old enough to wander on his own. He could wait until then. It would only take a few years, after all. 

He would be there if ever he was needed. For now, he would stay out of their way. He wanted to help, but Willow made it clear his presence only hurt.


	7. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ithrotaalfurin asks a question Glanni ends up thinking a lot about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Flashback(in italics), Five being an asscactus  
> Timestamp: A few days after Five's disgrace, with flashback from Glanni leaving the Northern Island onward to the events of Glanni Glaepur i Latibaer

“Why were you so angry at Five?” Ithrotaalfurin asked one night.

The two men were up in the balloon on the cot, holding each other closely as there wasn’t much room. Nine usually only ever travelled with himself but if Glanni made a habit of sticking around to actually _sleep_ with him instead of sleeping with him then the Elf would make some changes to accommodate another person.

The Fae groaned. “The same reason you are. He’s an awful person that uses People.”

The Elf shook his head. “No. You disliked him before all this. Isn’t that why you agreed to help us?”

Glanni didn’t answer that right away. He did have previous history with the fifth hero, that was true. He wondered if he should share the story or dodge the question.

After a moment he just sighed and pulled his Elf closer. “He pissed me off. That’s all.”

Ithrotaalfurin let it go for the time being. It would bother him not to know, even moreso considering Glanni felt the need to hide it when the Fae was so candid about everything else. Maybe he would open up to him more with time. Not long after that the Elf fell asleep, leaving the other alone with his thoughts.

_There wasn’t much to do in the Northern Island, honestly. It was cold enough to sting your lungs even in summer and the few who had no magic often left as soon as they were able. Glanni had magic, but found it too much effort to be wasting so much energy just to keep his wings from freezing._

_Humans were more fun to play with anyway, so gullible and willing to make Deals for the silliest things. Glanni was fair though, at least most of the time. He could twist words horribly for those that deserved it, but for the most part the Humans he dealt with only had to suffer very mild annoyances._

_Fae were impulsive despite having many of their own rules to follow. They did as they liked and left the consequences to someone else. Each had their vices. For Glanni, his weakness was men. Occasionally women but not nearly as often. He appreciated a partner that could throw him or pin him and didn’t treat him as if he was frail. He had a bit of a masochistic streak, though he didn’t care to admit it directly._

_Despite eventually having several recurring partners and near-constant sleeping around, the Fae wasn’t a very big fan of romance. He was in it for the fun of it, not to take care of anyone. He didn’t have the patience for anything lasting. Some of his partners didn’t understand this, despite him explaining it to them. He always ran from those._

_After a decade or so, Glanni had developed a reputation among the Hidden People. They claimed him insatiable, even for his species. Some started to avoid him. Others would seek him out. He was alright with this._

_Then that one Elf came along. He spent one night with Glanni, only one. After that he seemed to think the Fae owed him emotions Glanni knew he didn’t have. As usual, the Fae ran. The Elf followed, seriously trying to court him. If Glanni tried to see anyone else the Elf became angry. Eventually the Fae had had enough of the madness._

_“Will you just leave me be you utter moron?!” He shouted, burning the flowers he had been given with his magic._

_”No! I know you love me. Why not just admit it and stop running? I’ll be Numbered soon and then you won’t have to spend yourself because I’ll take care of you.” The Elf assured._

_”I’m not a prostitute! Even if I were I don’t want or need your help. We had fun once, which was actually disappointing on my end by the way. It doesn’t mean you have a right to hound me.”_

_“You can’t possibly be happy with so many people touching you.” The Elf scoffed._

_”I was actually very happy until you ruined it. I do not want you. Just go away. Leave me alone. Please.” Glanni pleaded._

_He had expected anger or grief. He had not expected to be hit. It was a wonder his jaw didn’t break from the force of the blow. He fell back roughly, the Elf standing over him in an intimidating manner._

_”You’ll let countless people ruin you and yet deny me?” The Elf chuckled darkly. “I’ll give you time to think about that.”_

_Glanni didn’t understand what he had meant until he had left and a pair of heavily glamoured human police took his place a few minutes later. From there Glanni spent eighty-three years behind iron bars, spending all of his magic on keeping his wings hidden. He had been mischievous, but never enough to warrant a prison sentence. It certainly did give him time to think and he used it to think of a way out._

_By the time Glanni escaped the prison with a few well placed favors, two and a half decks of playing cards, and a glamoured letter to the President with a request for a ride, the rumors of him had stopped. Instead, he was just labeled a criminal with no further information. He was happy to be forgotten, but angry and bitter about how much time had been wasted. Iron was painful and he’d been in close proximity of it for nearly a century._

_He kicked the chauffer out of the presidential car and drove as far as he could. He found himself in a new town and had a bit of, admittedly harmful fun there. He had only meant to run a simple scam. He needed the money. That is how he met a new Elf with the number Nine._

_Nine scared him at first. He had gotten used to a controlled environment without any Elves at all and he forgot how fast they could be. He also was not emotionally equipped for such a surprise, especially after being ruthlessly stripped of his disguise. Honestly, it had been hard work finding and stealing that suit. There was no need to rip it._

_Nine turned out to be rather fun to chase and be chased by. He hated Glanni, but that was fine. It suited both of them just fine for a while. To Glanni it became a game to see how angry he could make the hero. Eventually he even began seeing Nine as a friend in some twisted sense of the word. Possibly more, but he couldn’t be sure and refused to be tied down._

_When Glanni met the Elf who had stalked him before, he went unrecognized. How convenient it was that the one he held a grudge against, now known as Five, had forgotten all about him. When Nine’s son asked for help about the Drider situation it was like being handed an opportunity for revenge on a golden platter._

Nine didn’t need to know. Nobody did. Glanni didn’t need pity or sympathy. Five was Disgraced and that was all the Fae had wanted. Well, one of the things he wanted. He rolled over to look at the face of the sleeping Elf. He smiled, then carefully left the cot when he was sure he wouldn’t wake his partner. He leapt from the balloon and flew away.


	8. A Thousand Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick futurefic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: idk feels i guess  
> Timestamp: about a thousand years after Robbie's death

After being enslaved and given back their freedom Driders became less solitary. Many still liked to be left alone, but the majority had formed small, familial colonies for safety reasons.

There was one such colony at the outskirts of a town that was nearly empty aside from a very small number of humans. Occasionally a Drider would wander into town and nobody minded, having learned from history books that the spidery folk were usually peaceful. All of the Driders of this specific colony could sign, delighted that the humans knew too as many Driders were voiceless. There were stories of an Aunt Steph that taught them to talk with their hands, but nobody knew what she looked like aside from that she was pink.

Most of the time though, the Driders stuck to the forest. They could feel wards strongest there and knew it was safe even though they weren’t sure where the wards came from. They had simply always been there.

Just like the Elf had always been there. He lived in an airship that had been grounded long enough for Nature to cover and reclaim it, only the door unmarred by moss and vines. He would always come to play with the children old enough to be outside of the dens and away from their mother’s backs. Every generation that passed grew to know the Elf well. Sometimes he was joined by another Elf who was occasionally accompanied by a Fae but those visits were few and far between. The stranger Elf would bless any present eggs before leaving.

The Elf could knit if he sat still long enough, usually he looked sad and thoughtful whenever he did, but if any of the children noticed they said nothing and the Elf’s smile would return as soon as anyone talked to him. Sometimes he would even teach the children to knit if they asked, though he used needles instead of his fingers to compensate for his lack of claws.

Some thought maybe their strange resident Elf had set up the wards but it was a short-lived theory. Their Elf hardly had magic and they would have mistaken him for a Human if not for his ears and his crystal. The other Elf was strong enough, but hardly ever stayed for long enough to warrant wards.

Their Elf was happy to watch over them. He mentioned in passing once or twice that he was a retired hero. It made sense. He often went out of the way to save the Driderlings from themselves if they got lost or if a fight among siblings got out of hand. He didn’t really look retired, but Elves didn’t age past a certain point. 

The only thing that really proved he was old was the fact he had tired eyes. It was like he needed to rest but wasn’t sure how. He slept most nights. That wasn’t the sort of rest he needed. He had too much energy to ever relax so that wasn’t it either. It was like he wanted to stop, but it only showed when he thought nobody could see him.

Eventually an adolescent named Sky approached the Elf with questions. Sky had blue fur and an odd, pale discoloration to the joints of his legs. He had the common black hair as well as a hyperactivity that was rare in Driders. At least, it was rare in the trapdoor variety.

The Elf wasn’t quite sure when blue had been introduced into the genepool. Fairly recently, he supposed. Sky’s mother Pine was the first, being a mottled mix of iridescent blue and green. Black hair was a very clear dominant trait. Maybe blue fur was one of those genes that lay dormant for generations, only to crop up all at once much later. Either way it always amused the Elf to see.

“Hey!” Sky greeted, bounding over with all the grace of a frollicking deer. “I’ve been thinkin’.”

The Elf put his knitting down and smiled expectantly, waiting for the boy to continue.

“How come you’re always here with us and not with People like you?” The boy asked, skittering in place as a way to keep his body occupied but still somewhat still.

The Elf chuckled, a mix of nostalgia and melancholy very clear on his face.

“I suppose it’s about time I share that story.” The Elf spoke, voice quiet and a bit rough from disuse as he didn’t speak much. “Years ago, one of the children in Lazytown lost his pet rabbit…”


	9. Tickles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super short ticklefic that was requested by an anon on tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: tickles  
> Timestamp: Some time before Ella but who knows? I don't.

The first time was an accident. Trying to escape the cluster of legs that was his mate he had brushed the fur between where two legs connected the wrong way. The Drider instantly squirmed away from his Elf, causing Sportacus to chuckle at the reaction.

The second time it was scientific. Sportacus could guess from the first time that Robbie was at least somewhat ticklish but nothing was ever truly proven unless it could be repeated. He decided to try while Robbie was sleeping, near enough to night that it wouldn’t be too bad if he woke up.

Carefully, Sportacus nudged a leg aside and brushed over the fur where the leg connected to the rest of the Drider’s body. Robbie twitched and grunted, but didn’t wake. Sportacus waited for a moment before repeating the action in a brisker fashion.

Robbie kicked out blindly with one of his legs blindly to rid himself of the offense, but the Elf dodged him easily. This continued for a few minutes until Robbie woke up, holding back a giggle.

“Stop that.” The Drider growled.

“Stop what?” Sportacus asked, feigning innocence while his fingers just continued to assault purple fur.

“You know perfectly well what you are doing.” Robbie huffed, pushing the Elf out of arm’s reach. “So stop it.”

Sportacus grinned mischievously and Robbie did not like the implication of it. Sportacus leapt at him, causing Robbie to let out a brief shriek as he tried to run. No luck, as Sportacus managed to land on his back anyway, jamming his fingers right back to the fur between his third and fourth legs.

The den was full of nervous, frantic laughter for the few minutes it took Robbie to get his mate off of his back. Sportacus found himself being spun between tarsals, strong thread wrapping him quickly. It was honestly a sickening sensation, and within seconds he had been plastered to the ceiling.

Robbie shoved himself into his preferred corner and glared up at his mate.

Unbothered, Sportacus beamed. “You’re ticklish!”

Robbie snorted and let out a low hiss. “Don’t do that again or you can sleep up there.”

“That would be very bad for my circulation.” Sportacus pointed out.

Robbie rolled his eyes. “I mean it. Tickling is very annoying. You keep your silly hands out of my joints.”

Sportacus felt the need to point out his hands hadn’t been in any joints, only around them, but didn’t feel like getting himself into any more trouble than he already was. Best to humor his mate.

“Okay Robbie. No more tickles. Can you please let me down?”

Robbie sniffed, unconvinced and left the den entirely. By the time he came back, Sportacus was asleep already. It had only been about half an hour but the Drider took pity, pulling the bundled Elf down and unraveling him on the mat.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddles requested by Suspicioussunflower on tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: sweet enough to possibly spike sugar in diabetes, make sure you have your insulin.  
> Timestamp: Any while Ella is still a baby.

Rainy days were Robbie’s favorite kind. When it rained Sportacus would usually stay in the den. Robbie would seal the entrance to keep out the water. The patter of rain outside was a pleasant sound, like quiet white noise that canceled out the rest of the world above ground. 

Rainy days only got better with the addition of blankets instead of just the mat. The extra bedding made bundling up to wait out the weather a lot more cozy. Sportacus would stay out of his way while the Drider re-situated all the blankets into a perfect nest. It had to be just the right way. Ella helped in her own way, kicking at her blankie with her two front legs, imitating the bigger Drider.

Sportacus took a picture, the light from the camera catching in the reflective eyes of his family. It may have been unsettling to anyone else, but any pictures of the Driders taken with the flash on ended up with a considerable amount of eyeglare.

Once Robbie collapsed into the nest, signifying that his process was done, Sportacus plopped down next to him, leaning back against the side of his mate’s torso. Ella carried her blanket as she wobbled over, nearly tripping as she climbed onto the Elf’s lap. She coiled all of her legs as close to her body as possible and Sportacus took it as a cue to wrap her tightly in her blankie like an adorable spidery burrito.

One arm around their kid and the other around his mate’s waist and Sportacus was fairly certain he was the happiest Elf in the world. After a few seconds Robbie’s hand found Sportacus’s hair, carding absently through the loose curls. 

A few minutes more found Robbie turning onto his side, pulling Sportacus down with him and settling the Driderling sleeping warm and safe between them. Since it was a rare thing that the Elf ever truly be eye-level with his mate he gladly took the opportunity to smother him in gentle kisses, happy when Robbie held him closer and reciprocated.

The rain continued for hours, so for hours the family laid there. They were content to stay in the dark, sharing breath and quiet laughter over stories they were both only just drowsy enough to find funnier than they actually were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have started an original story on Patreon if anyone is interested.  
> Patreon Link: https://www.patreon.com/catdogwhatever


	11. Comparisons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a request for the Cephalothorax Au! How about Robbie and Sport sharing things about their culture to one another? Or maybe their past? I know that we already know about their past and culture, but what about small tidbits and details?
> 
> Requested by Thegyoulovetohate2 on tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this isn't enough, but Cephalothorax will be a trilogy soon and more will be explained there.

“I know you don't celebrate birthdays but do you celebrate anything?” Sportacus asked, going through his morning stretches while Robbie was trying to get to sleep.

“Not really. Celebrations are a group thing and Driders tend to avoid each other.”

“Why avoid each other?”

“It avoids fights and groups would scare off prey.” Robbie shrugged, kicking a blanket around absently. “Why are you so fond of groups? And why do you stick to Humans instead of your own?”

“Well most Elves live where it’s too cold for me.” He chuckled. “Besides, I’m only half. I told you, my mother was Human. Anyway Elves are social because it's easier to play in a group than alone, I guess.”

Robbie thought on that for a while, pausing in his task of adjusting the nest. Sportacus noticed him settling and decided talking was always a good thing to pass time before sleep. 

“I was sick a lot as a kid. It was too cold for me.”

“Yes, I felt that when you saved me.” Robbie replied quietly, reminding them both of their misadventure with Blood Magic.

“Well… We still don't know everything. Everything was vague memories… What about detailed things or parts of our culture that don't match?”

Robbie hummed thoughtfully, wondering what he should share or ask. They both settled on talking about courtship first. Driders didn’t have anything specific set for courtship between males but Sportacus felt a bit better to learn that the women killed the men out of instinct, not because they wanted to. 

Elves did very acrobatic dances in spring to try to win a mate’s favor. The only reason Sportacus hadn’t danced for Robbie is because he knew Robbie was prone to attacking movement. While Robbie had grown used to his Elf’s standard degree of movement, a dance would probably tip the balance they had come to. 

Robbie was also interested to learn that Elves could eat fish as long as it wasn’t too processed. Sportacus didn’t like it much but he could digest it if there was no fruits or vegetables available. Red meats would make him vomit, or at least slow him down considerably. 

Robbie, likewise, could not digest plants and while he liked the pleasant buzz sugar gave him, it did absolutely nothing for his nutrition at all. Drider’s needed a high protein content to function. Regardless, sugar was addictive and Sportacus couldn’t stop an adult from eating what they wanted.

“After my mother died I had to teach myself to hunt and started out on carrion. Nasty stuff, sour. I got sick quite a few times. Sometimes the spiders could lead me to something fresh but that was rare.”

“Can you control spiders?” Sportacus asked, curious.

“No. I can ask them for favors and they like to be helpful but I can’t force them to do anything.” Robbie explained, finally laying down properly. “Typically, Driders ask spiders to pass along messages. Spiders see everything.”

“Elves just send letters.”

“Most Driders can’t read. Scents are more effective.” The Drider let out a heavy sigh, starting to drift into sleep. “You can dance if you want to.”

Sportacus smiled, waiting for his mate’s breathing to slow before he left the den for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an original story in progress on patreon called Mismagicked if anyone is interested.  
> Patreon Link: https://www.patreon.com/catdogwhatever


	12. Alternative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a heartbreaking idea. What if driders who live with someone else go hide somewhere when their times comes, like some dogs and cats do. So Sportacus comes to the den one day and Robbie is missing. Sportacus searches for hours in panic and when he finally finds Robbie he is so relieved and happy. Then he notices Robbie isnt breathing anymore
> 
> Requested by an Anon on tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Major character death, age  
> Timestamp: About forty-five years after Driders go free.
> 
> This is an alternative death for Robbie. The first one I wrote is the canon(as far as this !verse goes) one, but this was asked for.

Sometimes Robbie hid when he was hurt. Usually he hid it well, only foiled by the fact that Sportacus’s crystal picked up on his discomforts. Of course, now that the Droider was getting older and had more aches, the crystal always kept a faint buzz going. Sportacus eventually learned not to be too concerned by it unless the crystal flashed as well.

When the crystal flashed it was definitely time to worry. Usually it was caused by Robbie’s legs giving out under him and causing him to fall. Sportacus could never quite get the elder arachnid to sit still to avoid that, as Robbie was convinced he could still do whatever he wanted despite his body slowly failing on him. The Elf didn’t want anything worse than a fall to happen.

Sportacus’s worry skyrocketed when his crystal set into full panic, flashing and beeping in an inconsolable frenzy. To make it worse, The Drider was absent from the den. Sportacus forced himself to calm, deciding to check on Ella and see if Robbie had gone to her den.

He found his daughter asleep, a clutch of eggs partially hidden by the corpse of an unknown Drider man he refused to think too much about. He hopped into the den, tapping the young woman at one of her leg joints. She let out a heavy sigh and sat up, rubbing her eyes. 

**What?** She asked, irritated at being woken up at midday. 

“Was Robbie here at all?” Sportacus asked her. 

The woman quickly stood, picking up on the distress her father was doing his best to hide. The crystal also reached her awareness and the fur on her abdomen bristled. 

**No. He’s not at your den?**

“I just came from the den…” He sighed, carding a hand through his hair to ground himself. “Stay with your eggs. I’ll find him.”

Ella nodded, settling closer to her clutch as her father climbed out of the den. Sportacus then set to work looking anywhere he could think of. The butcher shop and bakery hadn’t seen him. Neither had the three of his brothers, though the trio actually acted their age and didn’t go wandering. 

The final place he checked was the forest, relieved to see the familiar greyed purple fur just beyond the rock Robbie usually perched on. The crystal had stopped beeping only a few moments before, and Sportacus wondered if Robbie had fallen off his rock and if that had been the cause.

“I’ve been looking for you all day! Why’d you-?” He cut himself off as he passed the rock to see his mate completely, pale and still as stone. “Robbie?”

He nudged the Drider with his hand, heart dropping as his mate didn’t stir. He wasn’t even breathing. In a brief fit of denial he tried to get his mate to sit up, but there was no budging him. Rigor mortis had already begun to set in. 

“Robin get up.” He pleaded.

This wasn’t right. Robbie was supposed to be in the den, old but perfectly fine. He wasn’t supposed to be in the woods alone. Sportacus had told himself he would be there when this happened and he had failed in that.


	13. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thighfucking is only fun for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timestamp: Some time after Ella moves out of the den  
> Warnings: Monsterporn, Sizetraining with a horse dildo, Reference to Bad Dragon, A ridiculously large amount of jizz due to monsterdick, Restraint, Wall sex.
> 
> I can't believe I finished this.

Sportacus was fairly happy with his life. He had a beautiful mate, had a wonderful family, and he lived in a nice town. Life was relatively peaceful. Sometimes too peaceful. It was even boring at times. He loved his mate to death of course, but things had gotten a little stale. Boring. His sex life had become a one trick show for far too long. Didn’t most couples take time to try new things?

Differences in anatomy had prevented much experimentation so far but Sportacus knew anything could be done with enough practice and faith in himself. Robbie was very large, but the Elf could work to train himself up to that. Of course, it was never a bad idea to ask for help if you needed it. 

“Monitor!” He called as he finished his two thousandth jumping jack. A thin computer monitor slid out from a crease in the wall near where his bed was tucked away. He also called for a keyboard to go with it.

Soon the searches ‘drider penis’, ‘spider penis’, ‘false penis’, ‘sex tool’, and finally ‘sex toy’ had all filled his browser history. None were quite what he was looking for. Pixel said the internet knew everything but clearly that was a lie.

“You seem frustrated, Sportacus.” Airship finally chimed in their overly calm voice.

“I am.” He admitted, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

“May I suggest water?” They asked, already deploying a bottle. “You seem dehydrated.”

He caught the bottle and toyed with the cap for a moment without drinking, thoughtful. Right. The internet was frequented by mainly Humans. It only made sense the only things he was finding were relatively close to a humanoid size or shape. Still, there had to be something.

“I have scanned your search history. May I make suggestions based on what you seem to be interested.”

Sportacus sighed. “Go ahead.”

He waited a moment, watching a loading wheel appear on the monitor as Airship did their job. Once the request finished processing, a new website popped onto the screen, displaying a collective of vaguely phallic structures. He thanked the ship and clicked around a while, learning the site until he found what he was looking for. Well, it may not have been _exactly_ what he wanted but he figured a horse sized dildo was close enough to his mate’s size, though he believed Robbie had a nicer shape.

He was glad to see the toy came in different colors and immediately settled on purple. He also ordered a rather large container of lubricant because he knew the toy didn’t have the benefit of doing it naturally like a Drider’s. Since he didn’t really have a set address for the post office he left Bessie’s.

Aware of how fast shipping was to Lazytown, he quickly left the airship and sprinted to the secretary’s home. He got there just as she was picking up the box to read the label, confused for a moment when the Elf took it from her.

“Bessie! Hello! I had to use your address to buy… a thing.” He explained, backing away slowly.

“A thing?” She echoed. 

“A thing.” Sportacus confirmed and turned to retreat with a flashy flip. “Bye Bessie!”

The woman chuckled and shook her head at his antics, going back inside. Sportacus went back to his airship and opened the box, glad to see the toy and lube had arrived together. It would have certainly been a disaster if he had only taken one and left the other in his frantic departure. He quickly read through the paper that came with it, a small set of instructions that simply said to keep silicone products away from anything else made of silicone and how to wash it, as well as a reminder to keep sex safe which he already knew but was glad to see manufacturers taking seriously. Different blood meant he and Robbie couldn’t catch anything from eachother anyway and pregnancy wasn’t a possibility.

He took the toy to the bathroom, washing it before taking it back to the main room and calling up the table to set it on. He stared at it for a few minutes, then a few minutes more. He had been prepared before, at least mentally, but now that the toy was in his possession he found himself growing nervous about it. Now it just felt like the dildo was challenging him.

Well, Sportacus would never back down from a challenge no matter how difficult it seemed at first. The first step was always the hardest and today it seemed the first step was to take off his pants, so off his pants went. The rest of his clothes with with them, as he found no reason to do anything halfway and he was sure this experiment would turn into a mess quickly.

He was glad he hadn’t gone for the option of a flared tip, glad the standard seemed like it would be much more manageable. He left the dildo on the table and called his bed out, kicking the sheet off and taking the lube to settle on the cushioned space. He opened the jar and coated his fingers, impatiently starting himself off with two. He winced, reminding himself that this was no race. He took a breath and slowed down, adding fingers as he felt ready until he had all five of them pumping in and out of himself. 

By this point the Elf had gotten hard but was ignoring his dick for now in favor of his priority mission. While he wasn’t going to rush anything and hurt himself he _did_ hope that he would be fully prepared by nightfall so he could surprise Robbie. Hopefully they would both enjoy the progress.

He let out a shaky breath as he spread his fingers inside of himself to stretch himself just a little further. He paused like that for a moment, unsure if he would be able to take anything bigger since even this was already so much. He looked back to the dildo lying on the table. If Humans made something that big for fun then it could be done. Elves were built to be sturdy, he could handle it. 

Slowly, he removed his hand from his ass and left his bed to retrieve the toy from the table. He should have probably bought something smaller, at least to have a halfway point. He called for a towel to wipe his hands, which he then spread out over his bed before seating himself on it again. 

How best to do this, he wondered as he coated the tip of the toy with as much lube as he could. Surely if he took his hand he could at least take the head of the toy to start with. He laid on his back and pulled his leg up, sticking a finger into himself and using it as a guide as he pulled the dildo in. He stopped and held as the stretch became enough to cause a slight burn. 

It was only a few inches in but he allowed himself a quick, self-congratulatory stroke over the length of his shaft, biting his lip against a moan. Then it was back to business. He adjusted his grip on the toy and pushed it in another inch, just enough for it to start to hurt, then pulled it out a fraction. He continued the motion a few times, waiting for it to feel more natural before pushing further.

It took him over half an hour before he could finally take even half of the toy. He had to hold it to keep his body from pushing it back out. With the hand that wasn’t occupied he began touching himself freely. It didn’t take much for him to come given the activity. It was a far too intense feeling to climax with something so large inside him but he was glad to find it easier to press further since his body was probably the most relaxed post-orgasm than any other time.

He managed about two more inches, a strange mix of overstimulation and post-orgasmic haze making the effort simultaneously easier and more difficult in different senses.

“You seem overexerted. May I recommend a break?” The Airship asked suddenly.

“I’m fine.” Sportacus answered hoarsely.

He did remove the toy from himself, however, having to do so slowly to avoid hurting himself. He looked at the toy and sighed. This would take more practice than he initially thought. More than a day at least. He pushed through two more sessions that day, getting further each time. He then took a shower and went home, exhausted. 

It only took a week for Robbie to notice something was going on. In the morning when Sportacus was about to leave, a tarsal pulled him back by the back of his vest. 

“Are…?” Robbie began, his voice wavering somewhat. “Have you been seeing someone else?”

“Robbie, no.”

“You keep coming back tired and you always just smell like soap and I know I’m not-” 

“Robbie you are _perfect_. I’m not with anybody else.” Sportacus interrupted.

“Then where have you been going?” Robbie asked.

“My airship.” 

“What are you doing in your airship that requires tiring yourself out and taking a shower?”

“Masturbating.” Sportacus answered bluntly. “A lot.”

Robbie frowned at him, brow raised. “You could do that here.”

“It’s not standard masturbation…” Sportacus explained. “Humans built false penises that can be used for it.”

“Oh…” Robbie said quietly, settling back into the corner and tucking his legs closer to his body. “Right. Mine is too big.”

“No it isn’t. Well, it was, but I’ve been training myself.” Sportacus explained quickly. “I want you to be able to fit inside me so I’ve been practicing with a toy that’s almost your size.”

Robbie said nothing, curling further in on himself. Sportacus sat down in front of him. They shared a moment of silence. Robbie seemed upset and Sportacus wasn’t sure what he had done wrong but he hoped he could fix it.

“I’m sorry I thought you were with someone else.” Robbie said quietly, pulling his mate closer to him.

Sportacus hugged him tightly. “I would never do that.”

“I know.”

Robbie uncurled his legs and stood, pulling his Elf up with him.

“Are you okay?” Sportacus asked.

The Drider nodded against his hair, then pulled back to kiss his Elf. They held each other a moment, then parted. 

“Are you going to the airship now or… would you like to try with me?” Robbie asked shyly.

“Sure!” Sportacus chirped with a grin. 

“Tell me if it’s too much.” Said the Drider, turning to pick up his mate with a hind leg. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Just start slow.”

Sportacus allowed himself to be undressed and webbed to the wall, not minding in the slightest, but curious. He didn’t have to wonder why he was tied for long, as Robbie reared up. His first legs braced the wall on either side of the Elf. His dick began sliding out of his sheathe and the sight caused Sportacus’s to twitch in interest. 

Robbie shifted, scraping his fangs over the crook of Sportacus’s neck, though he was careful not to break skin. Sportacus whined as Robbie moved lower, licking the length of the Elf’s cock before carefully taking it into his mouth. Sportacus pushed his hips forward as far as the web would allow. Robbie gladly took him further, swallowing around him and delighting in the sound it drew from his elf.

Robbie pulled off before rearing up further, kissing Sportacus deeply, chuckling into the other’s mouth. 

“What?” Sportacus asked when they pulled away from each other's mouths.

“You’re actually allowing this.” Robbie answered, rising even further. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Robbie let out a clicking growl as the tip of his cock rubbed against Sportacus’s entrance. He didn't try pressing in just yet. The Elf took a deep breath, relaxing himself and enjoying the slippery warmth against him. A pedipalp on each thigh guided his legs up, knees level with his shoulders as they were settled over his mate’s cephalothorax.

“I’m okay.” Sportacus reported. “You can start.”

The claws on the pedipalps dug into the Elf’s thighs somewhat as the tip of the massive cock slowly intruded. Sportacus gasped, glad the dildo had done its work stretching him out a decent amount. Robbie stopped moving, his face scrunched in concentration. Both were still for a moment before Sportacus again assured that he was alright and that his mate could move, after which Robbie would pull back slightly before pressing further inside. 

Sportacus found himself unable to take more than just over half. Robbie was just too thick to take after a certain point and the dildo had been the same width all the way down. Sportacus had hoped to be able to handle all of his mate but he knew it was an accomplishment getting this far.

“I can’t- This is is as far as I can- _Oh fuck me Robin._ ” Sportacus breathed.

“Are you sure?”

 _”Please._ Just don’t go further than this, okay?”

Robbie nodded above him and pulled most of the way out before pushing in with a snarl. The ridges of his cock massaged the stretched skin of the Elf’s ass in a pleasant fashion. The curve of it meant he was thrusting against Sportacus’s prostate every time he thrusted in. Sportacus cried out when the Drider sped up, tensing against the webs in an effort not to come after only a few minutes. 

Robbie had fallen into a mix of moans and clicking, all overlaid by a constant feral growl low in his chest. He remained careful, but grew increasingly frantic in his movements. One of his hands moved to cover Sportacus’s, lacing their fingers together as he came into his Elf. 

Sportacus let out a surprised yelp as he was suddenly flooded with the hot fluid, most of it leaking out onto the floor. He lost his own composure after a few more thrusts, tensing as he released between their joined bodies. Robbie pulled out slowly and pulled his penis back into his body as Sportacus tried to remember how to breathe. Even more of the Drider’s load fell out of him as it was no longer being held in. 

Robbie freed him from the webs and set his Elf down. Sportacus tipped over, legs protesting, and Robbie helped him to the mat. They both settled in their nest.

“You’re shaking…” Robbie observed aloud. 

“I’m fine. I’m just tired. Don’t want to move.”

Robbie chuckled, curling his legs over Sportacus and pulling him close. They both went back to sleep, leaving the mess for now to clean up later when they felt less boneless.


	14. Smells Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He saw them, but he didn't know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timestamp: During the Cracked Egg  
> Warnings: Established death(Charlotte), the silk farm

_It seemed the eggs had been taken._

Charlotte had laid eight eggs. She could tell from the size of them that there would be two girls when they hatched. She had them all webbed together in a sack, hidden behind the corpse of their father. She was proud of them and hoped they all hatched healthy. Eight _was_ a bit much for her second clutch and none of her first had hatched at all, but she had been eating well when she laid them and had high hopes.

Elves hunted Driders. That was a fact Charlotte knew well ever since watching her mother die. When she smelled magic in the air she knew she needed a plan. Luckily, she was a fast thinker. She asked every spider she knew to find one of her brothers and chipped a bit of shell away from the biggest egg. She then hid that egg under her. The Elves were getting closer. She knew she may only be able to save one, and the biggest girl would have the highest chance of surviving. 

She fought as much as she could to keep the Elves out of her den without revealing the egg she had hidden. There were five of them though, all armed with silver blades. Even without her movement hindered she would have never been able to keep them away. It was all she could do to keep her legs coiled tightly around the egg she had chosen to save when the silver pierced her neck.

The Elves took the eggs they saw, along with the father’s corpse to feed them, never thinking to search the mother for more. Seven eggs went to the silk farm. Seven eggs hatched. Five of the babies cried. Only two survived.

It was always too bright in the nursery. Too bright and too cold. The children hated it. The only reprieve they could get was to cuddle their siblings, who they knew by smell since birth.

There were two purple furred boys huddled together in a corner. They weren’t the only ones with purple fur. Every color was present in the cage they called a nest. They were the only purple furs that came from the same set of eggs, however. 

The corner was the best place for them to be. There was solid wall on two sides and it held their warmth better than any other place. They had even fought a girl to keep their corner to themselves. Girls were big and scary, but there were two of them and they could both be just as scary if they stuck together. So together they stuck, ever since hatching.

They were fed one meal a day, fighting the other children for scraps. Sometimes one of the smaller children would die, either killed over food or simply keeling over from malnutrition. If that happened the body would be eaten or removed by one of the Elves that took care of them. The cage would be cleaned every week, by which time it was filthy. 

If a child got big enough they would be taken to another cage until they outgrew that one. The second time they came back they would be missing their fangs and there would be new scars on their necks. The boys did not have to worry about that. They were still babies, after all.

Every day was the same, until it wasn’t. The quiet had been broken by screams and growls. The Elves were running away, and then a new Elf showed up. He smelled like the two purple brothers. He smelled like family. He was opening the cages. 

The bolder of the two took his brother by the hand and they followed the Elf until he stopped. Both grabbed onto his pant leg and he looked down.

“Hello!” He chirped. “You’re free now. All of you are free. Go find your mother.”

The brothers understood none of this, and the bigger one tugged at the fabric. The Elf chuckled, picking them both up, one in each arm. Both relaxed marginally. The Elf was warm and felt like home. They held each other's hand across the Elf’s chest, knowing that they were safe for the first time since hatching.

He took them to an area filled with Driders of every age, every color. He set them down and gave them both a nudge to join the crowd.

“Go on. Go find mommy.”

He wasn’t _understanding._ He smelled just like them, weren’t they his? Didn’t he know them by their scent just as they knew him? Did he just not want them? It seemed so as the Elf let a red furred male take them. They reluctantly clung to the fur of the male that smelled nothing like them, but at least seemed like he was ready to care for them. 

Eventually they grew to know the red male as Father and forgot all about the Elf. They learned each other as Cloud and Wind. Eventually they would grow to wonder about what happened to the mother that laid their eggs and if they had any siblings that had not been culled in the farm they hatched in. Eventually they parted when they outgrew the den and went their separate ways.


	15. The Knife Goes Chop Chop Chop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glanni has an interesting way to deal with anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timestamp: Somewhere between The Cracked Egg and Scapegrace  
> Warnings: Implied threat of bodily harm but no actual harm.

There were many things Glanni Glaepur did that concerned Ithrotaalfurin. He watched too many cartoons, drank too much alcohol, and would have sex with practically anyone willing. The man even headed a gang. 

“Don’t worry,” Glanni told one of the hideout guards when first bringing Ithrotaalfurin to the hidden place past a condemned building and underground. “He’s crooked.”

“I am _not!_ ” The Elf protested, prompting a snort from the Fae.

“Well you sure as hell weren’t straight this morning!” 

The Elf really should have alerted authorities to the gang itself, but as far as he could tell the gang was better than the actual police at keeping the crime rate controlled and consisted mainly of the people who couldn’t get jobs elsewhere. The Mayhemtown Gang was more like an oddly organized pack of hedonistic rats than truly bad people, so as long as no one was hurt Ithrotaalfurin could try to turn a blind eye.

The hero and criminal were currently in the gang’s hideout, surrounded by members. As if that weren’t enough, he was currently sitting cross legged on the floor, his right hand splayed out on the floor and his left holding a knife which he was rapidly clicking against the space between his fingers. He was also singing an entirely too cheerful song about losing fingers despite thankfully not actually hitting any of them. Ithrotaalfurin was almost scared to speak in case it broke Glanni’s concentration and caused the Fae’s hand to slip.

Brutus, a heavily tattooed man with a long beard and shaved head assured him that talking to Glanni wouldn’t cause him to sever any fingers. He did advise the Elf to stay out of arm’s reach, however. Apparently Glanni was prone to lashing out like a cat with his blade when he was in a sour mood.

“Glanni?” Ithrotaalfurin asked softly as he stepped closer. He knew the Fae wouldn’t hurt him. “What are you doing?”

“Knife game,” Came the blunt answer.

“That doesn’t look like a very nice game…” Ithrotaalfurin observed. “You’re very good at it though. Why are you playing it?”

“I’m pissed off.” The Fae snarled, both wings beating the air beside him for a second as if to provide emphasis.

“Why are you angry?”

“Taco Bell took volcano burritos off the menu.” Glanni huffed. “I haven't been in years until today and that’s all I wanted but they stopped making them a long time ago.”

The knife sped up, the clicking of the blade against the floor sounding even louder to the Elf’s ears.

“That’s no reason to risk hurting yourself.” Ithrotaalfurin protested. “You should put the knife down.”

“ _You_ should stop telling people what to do.” Glanni countered.

The knife came away from clicking a rhythm about Glanni’s hand to being dangerously close to Ithrotaalfurin’s foot. The Elf squawked and took a step back. Glanni snickered and withdrew it, though he didn’t resume his game. Instead, he looked up and gestured with the blade.

“Relax.” The Fae snorted, almost sounding offended. “You really think I’m going to stab you when I didn’t shoot you?”

“That’s different. You like knives and hate guns.”

“You’d like knives too if I were the one to cut you.” Glanni teased, a wry smile playing on his lips.

“I really don’t think I would…”

Glanni cackled. “I’m _joking._ ” He then slid the knife back into his boot where it belonged.

By this time there was a small crowd of the gang members watching both of them curiously. Not just anyone could get Glanni to put away a weapon simply by _asking_ and no one had dared to get so close after Will needed stitches in his leg for taking a foul step in the Boss’s direction. Clearly the ‘crooked Elf’ had to be someone special to calm Glanni down so easily.

All had heard the conversation, and Brutus sent a few of the members to clear out a Taco Bell. This meant several of the Gang going to order everything on the menu until the establishment ran out of supplies to make food until they would be able to restock the next morning. They returned in groups of three and laden with full bags of the fast food.

Glanni was actually surprised when he was suddenly surrounded by so much of the mockery of mexican food. Oh how he loved his gang. It would never be a Court but he supposed it was better in some ways. Glanni kept four of the bags for himself and let everyone else share the rest. The sauce packets made quite the colorful mountain at the center of the room.

There was still no volcano burritos to be had but all ate ravenously aside from the Elf, who could only look on in mild disgust. He said nothing though. Down here food seemed to be a blessing no matter the form it took and eating figurative garbage was better than eating literal garbage.


	16. Mother's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sportacus has some trouble staying asleep.

Joy woke up early one morning to a surprisingly warm little Elf crawling up through the several blankets and over her legs to curl up at the back of her knee. It was summer, but still a cold night so there were seven thick quilts on the bed. No matter how cold he was, she knew her son couldn’t keep his head under so many covers. She lifted them up to find the tiny blonde boy, looking back up at her with red eyes and a running nose.

“Come up here, Tryggvi. You’ll suffocate.”

“Wha’s suffocate?”

“It means you won’t be able to breathe.”

“Can’d breathe anyway. My nose is mad.” He replied, but crawled up anyway to settle on his mother’s chest.

She didn’t even have to check his temperature to know he had a fever. He felt like a furnace and was shivering heavily. She hated the fact that she was used to her son being sick, but there wasn’t much that could be done aside from to lend him her warmth and try to keep medicine in him. It was the cold, she knew. She was an adult and thicker than most other women, but Tryggvi was small, skinny, and only four years old. 

“You know,” She began, wrapping her arms around her boy and sitting up, “I think there are a few sweet potatoes left.” Joy was a mother now and used to be a nurse, so she would eat her slippers before she let her son go sick without at least trying to cheer him up.

“But Pabbi says you’re not supposed to eat at night or goblins smell you.” Tryggvi warned.

“He only says that because he toots if he eats at night.” Joy snickered, and reached over to tickle her tiny Elf’s tummy. “The goblins are just smelling fart.”

Tryggvi giggled, which spawned a coughing fit. Joy could even hear the glob of mucus dislodge. She hoped her son wasn’t getting pneumonia on top of his ever-present cold.

“Don’t swallow that. Go spit it in the sink.” She advised and the boy climbed down to do as he had been told. 

Joy turned to step off of the bed and went to her drawers to get some pajama pants on under her nightgown along with a pair of thick socks and her blue robe. She was dressed by the time her son had rinsed out his mouth and come back to her, staggering a little as a clogged ear had affected his balance. She picked him up and settled him on her hip before he had the chance to tip over and took him to the kitchen.

She let him pick out the biggest potato from the basket and he also got to wash it while Joy lit the stove. It wasn’t exactly sanitary to let a sick kid handle food, but this wasn’t a restaurant and he insisted on being helpful. He was going to be the one to eat it anyway. Once he handed her the clean potato she jabbed holes into it with a fork and put it into a pan to bake. While they waited for that to finish, Joy settled in a kitchen chair.

“Do you want to go pick out a book to read?” Joy asked, but Tryggvi shook his head. 

The boy was content to just stay in his mother’s lap, half covered by her robe as she gently rocked him. She sang to him softly for a while as the room started to smell sweet. The timer started to ring soon enough and Joy had to put the boy down again to take the potato out and turn the stove off. She then transferred it to a plate and cut it open to mash the insides up. She offered to sprinkle a bit of cinnamon on it, but Tryggvi declined and asked if he could have the skin too, which she supposed shouldn’t have surprised her.

After feeding her son she washed his plate and ran a warm bath for him, letting him sit in the steam in the hopes that it would clear his sinuses at least for a little while. It was worrisome she could hardly remember the last time she had heard his voice properly without the filter of mucus. She made the mental note to sent her husband after more aspironol when he got back; A whole barrel of the stuff if he could find it.

After a bath, Tryggvi always felt well enough for the few minutes it took him to fall asleep, which he did in the thickest set of flannels he had. They both settled in Joy’s bed, the boy having curled up in a ball in the crook of her arm. Due to the late night activities, the child even managed to sleep in until noon which was a rarity. Usually he was up and awares by dawn.

Joy decided it wasn’t too bad of a start for Mother’s Day.

**Author's Note:**

> Support my original story on Patreon?  
> Link: https://www.patreon.com/catdogwhatever


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